LoveFest 2020
by Entwinedlove
Summary: Complete. / A collection of stories that were written for The Fairest of the Rare's LoveFest 2020 to celebrate rare pairings in the HP fandom.
1. Cubicle 23

**Cubicle 23**

_Longbottom, Neville. Parkinson, Pansy. Please enter cubicle 23 to begin the process for matrimony._

Pairing: Pansy/Neville  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: marriage law  
Words: 457  
Original Release Date: 09 Feb 2020

* * *

"I can't believe I got stuck with you," she said, a look of revulsion on her face as she looked Neville up and down.

"Really, Parkinson? That's all you've got to say about this—" he waved his hand in the air, gesturing to the tiny cubicle they had been assigned. "You're not worried about your freedom or the fact that we're going to have to have sex, have babies?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I was going to have an arranged marriage anyway. They could at least have paired me with someone with a bit more... class."

"Hmph." He didn't know how this was going to work. Sure she was pretty, as long as she wasn't wrinkling her nose up like she smelled manure on her shoes, but they had completely different ideologies, different life goals. He'd grown up with the assumption that he'd get to marry for love. And this... this wasn't it.

She was looking at him again, from the side of her eye. "I guess you've outgrown your... lumpiness." Her sneer faded, turning into slight curiosity as she gave him another, more thorough, once over.

Neville tried not to snort. Lumpiness? He had been a chubby kid. It had taken some effort, but he definitely wasn't chubby now. He didn't bother trying to pretend he didn't see her checking him out.

"You're not destitute or anything, right?"

It was his turn to roll his eyes but he answered. "I'm comfortable."

A disembodied, monotonous voice spoke from above their heads. "The paperwork for your marriage is complete. You may kiss the bride." Neville and Parkinson waited, expecting the door to unlatch now that they had gone through the ridiculous hoops the Ministry had instituted when it had enacted the Marriage and Issue Act. When nothing happened after a short pause, the voice spoke again, "You may kiss the bride."

Neville leaned forward and gave Parkinson a peck on the lips.

The lock still didn't unlatch.

"Oh, for the love of—" Neville said, his patience running low. He raised his hand and cupped her jaw, subtlely manoeuvring her where he wanted her. He kissed her, funnelling his frustrations with the Ministry into a short but passionate liplock.

While they were stepping back from each other, the door unlocked and the voice above said, "Congratulations on your matrimony. Please exit the cubicle so the next couple can be processed."

Pansy hummed and reached up to touch her lips; she seemed to be looking at Neville in a new light. Before they left the small space, she murmured, "Maybe this won't be so bad after all."

Neville chose to pretend not to hear her, though he couldn't stop a smirk from forming on his lips. Maybe not.


	2. Time on the Reserve

**Time on the Reserve**

_Luna's newest project brings her to Romanian's Dragon Reserve where she meets an old acquaintance. _

Pairing: Luna/Charlie  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: coworkers  
Words: 400  
Original Release Date: 19 Feb 2020

* * *

"It's... Luna, isn't it?" a man's voice said from behind her.

Luna turned around to see a handsome red-haired, freckled man behind her. He was barrel-chested and his arms were so thick his tee-shirt pulled tight around them. He looked familiar. "Yes, that's me."

"I'm Charlie Weasley, we met at my brother Bill's wedding?"

She smiled widely at him with his confirmation that she did indeed know him. "That makes sense."

"What are you doing out here?" he asked. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around at the wooden walls of the visitor's centre and main office. "I mean, are you taking a tour of the Reserve?"

"Miss Lovegood?" The office manager said from behind the counter. She was holding a scroll of parchment and a key. "I've got your renter's paperwork finished."

Luna answered Charlie even as she walked towards the manager. "I'm actually going to be doing some advanced research for a new chapter in the next edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."

"Oh!" The manager said when she saw Charlie, "How good of you to stop by Weasley. Miss Lovegood here will be staying in the second bedroom of your bungalow. You'll be a doll and show her the place, yeah? I've got that meeting with the financiers to prepare for." She handed the scroll and key to Luna and then disappeared back into the office and employee work areas.

Luna turned to Charlie and smiled at him. He looked a bit shocked.

"You're working... here. And living in my bungalow... right. Uh," he cleared his throat. "Sorry, a lot of information to take in at once. I came down here to put in an order for peat moss and dragonhide gloves. I guess I'll do that later, then." He nodded and seemed to collect himself. He grinned at her. "So, my bungalow. I think I can show you around."

"Brilliant," she answered. She again took in the way his shirt showed off his muscular chest. His freckles were thickest over his nose, making him look almost tanned. She smiled and couldn't help but wonder if he was just as freckled beneath his clothes. Maybe she'd get to find out since she was sharing a bungalow with him.

As he gestured her back towards the door, he asked, "Fantastic Beasts, huh? They're going to have a more in-depth chapter about dragons?"


	3. Quidditch Fantasy

**Quidditch Fantasy**

_There's been a persisitant rumor about a ghost haunting the Gyrffindor locker room next to the Quidditch pitch. Hogwarts's newest flying teacher and Quidditch coach, Ginny Weasley, doesn't put stock in rumors._

Pairing: Ginny/James  
Rating: explicit  
Warnings: Foul Language  
Tropes: No Voldemort, Ghost Sex, Magical Sex, Masturbation, Dubious Consent, Awkward Afters, Mistaken Identity  
Words: 927  
Original Release Date: 19 Feb 2020

* * *

Ginny was disgusted with the disarray she found in the Gryffindor locker room. Broken brooms in one corner. Beater's bats lying around—some with cracks in them wider than her thumb. Ball cases not fully locked so that they rattled ominously as she passed. Practices snitches in a basket that flapped weakly in her presence.

School hadn't even reconvened yet. This mess was left from last year. And possibly longer than that. She didn't remember the locker room looking like this when she was in school. There had been a rumour about the locker room then and it persisted even now. There was a ghost haunting it. She didn't believe it. Most of the ghosts were friendly and hung about the castle. It was very unlikely that a ghost would linger here.

She went about cleaning the space. Vanishing the broken items, making mental notes of what needed replacing. She was just putting the last of the equipment on the shelves on the back wall when she felt the cold sensation of a ghost passing through her. The feeling was gone as quick as it came on. Something like an urge or a suggestion lingered, though.

She glanced over her shoulder at the door, pondering her location. School wasn't in session. Only a few professors were even on the grounds yet. No one would come looking for her.

Decision quickly made, Ginny closed her eyes and let her hands come up to play and tease at her breasts. She hadn't had a boyfriend in a while and she'd been so busy lately. She was due an orgasm.

What was that fantasy she used to have? Someone she fancied would sneak up behind her after Quidditch practice and touch her like this? Maybe bend her over a bench and eat her out? She breathed deeply and thought she smelt cologne. It was the scent one of her former boyfriends, Harry, used to wear. She imagined it was his fingers teasing her nipples through her bra—though he was never have been daring enough to fuck her where someone could have caught them. She breathed heavily, feeling the sweet warmth of her arousal start to spread through her blood.

She tilted her head to the side and imagined he was kissing her neck and grinding his cock against her arse. She pinched her nipples hard and the sensation jolted through her. She could practically feel his hands on her, one at her hip and the other reaching beneath her skirt to cup her cunt. She moaned and the sound seemed to echo.

She was really getting into her fantasy. She pulled down her knickers and kicked them away, spreading her feet to give herself room to play at the juncture of her thighs. She was so wet already, her fingers glided over her clit and between her lips. When she pressed her fingers into her, she gasped at the way they filled her up.

In her mind's eye, she could see her lover nudging her to lean forward a bit more. She grabbed one of the low shelves in front of her and did just that, arching her back to provide a better view and better access.

She felt warm hands on her hips as he pulled her skirt out of the way and teased her with the tip of his cock. The stretch when he entered her had her opening her eyes and moaning. At first, Ginny was sure her fantasy was just that, but when she felt the heat of her lover actually at her back, actually pushing into her, she might have startled a little. She was too far gone from her fingers and the feel of a real cock, thick and hot, hard and thrusting that her tensing up kickstarted her orgasm. Her lover rode her through it, his hips slapping against her arse the percussion accompaniment to her moaned melody and his low-throated harmony.

It was over too soon for Ginny's liking, despite the unexpected turn of the encounter. When he pulled from her she turned around to get a look at the man who'd interrupted her fantasy. His head was tipped back, his eyes were closed, and his mouth was hanging open as he tried to get his breathing under control. He redid his fly without looking. At a glance, he looked like her former boyfriend. "Harry?" she asked, feeling confused.

He looked at her, asking, "Sorry?" even as he grinned mischievously. He had the same messy hair as Harry but his glasses, his eyes themselves, were different. Almost brown rather than strikingly green.

"You're James Potter, aren't you?" she asked. "You disappeared a few years after you left school. Left your wife and newborn son alone."

"Girlfriend, yeah. How'd you know? Anyway, I wanted to say thanks for the shag. It feels like it's been ages since one of my mates pranked me in here. I'm glad to finally be free of it." His smile faltered as Ginny just stared at him. "Wait, you called me Harry. How do you know my son? Why would you confuse me with him? Who are you, by the way, I don't recognize you."

Ginny cleared her throat, her bliss from her orgasm all but forgotten. The only reminder of their encounter the wetness at her thighs and her knickers on the floor across the room. "I'm Ginny Weasley and you've got a lot of catching up to do."

He looked her up and down, that mischief in his expression again. "Yeah? I think I do."


	4. The Red String

**The Red String**

_Some say trust and understanding are good foundations for a lasting relationship._

Pairing: Lily/Regulus, background Marlene/OFC, background Alice/Frank, background Mary/OMC  
Rating: general  
Warnings: Lily is engaged to James but there's no infidelity  
Tropes: Accidental Hero, Soulmates, Pre-Relationship  
Words: 1,214  
Original Release Date: 19 Feb 2020

* * *

Regulus grasped the locket horcrux in his hand long enough to feel the oily slick Dark Magic encasing it. He thrust it at Kreacher. "Go," he demanded, "Take it an destroy it!" His parched throat ached with the force of the words.

Kreacher nodded, croaked out a desperate, "Yes, Master," and disappeared in a crack of Apparition.

The sound of it echoing around the cave drew Regulus's attention to the groaning horde of Inferi climbing onto the little rock he was on. Their boney fingers outstretched, intent on dragging him under the dark water.

There was something like irony in his delirious thoughts, death by drowning at the same time he was dying of thirst. He wanted to fight the pawing, groping hands pulling him down but he didn't have the strength. He closed his eyes, tried to breath through his fear, and hoped death wouldn't hurt.

* . * . *

It was just supposed to be a silly game, Lily thought, as she felt her magic amplify the swirling wind destroying the room. There was a book of spells she had found at an old Muggle bookstore in Cokeworth that she thought would be fun to bring to Alice's bridal shower. They'd all agreed that the incantation and ritual couldn't hurt. They'd get a giggle out of what the spell would show them—if it worked at all—and then they'd make another round of drinks and Alice would open some more presents; she still hadn't opened Marlene's gift which was supposed to be lingerie.

The seven of them (Lily, Alice, Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, Emmeline, and Gwendolyn) had all done the soulmate spell altogether, not expecting anything to happen at all. Not this whirlwind pulling at their magic, not the opening hole in the ceiling, not the ear-splitting cracks of thunder and blinding lightning.

Lily's heartbeat loudly in her chest and something inside her tightened.

As suddenly as the roaring windstorm had appeared, it disappeared, leaving the room partial destroyed. Pictures frames that had hung on the wall were broken. Furniture was tipped up. The couch was in two different pieces on opposite sides of the room. The seven witches had been tossed back against the walls of the room in the course of the spell. In the centre of the room on top of the splintered pieces of Alice's hand-me-down coffee table and all of the women's cocktails were seven more people. Most of them were looking around the room in disorientation, confused to how they were here, pulled from wherever they had been before.

Seven red strings manifested above and between the seven witches who'd cast the soulmate spell and the seven newcomers. All at once the strings attached themselves to one person from each group.

The red string tied around Lily wrist and pulled taut to the wrist of Regulus Black. He was drenched from head to toe and the only one laying down. He had propped himself up and opened his eyes. Upon looking around he asked quietly with a scratchy voice, "Am I dead?"

No one immediately answered him.

On the other side of the group, Frank was looking at Alice. "What's going on?"

Peony Pepperquat, a Hufflepuff two years older than Lily addressed Marlene. "Marly? I haven't seen you in ages. How've you been?"

Alice was the first to take charge of the room. "So out of fun, we cast a Muggle spell to find our soulmates. We didn't expect it to work. As you can see, something happened." She glanced at Lily and followed the string to Regulus. Lily could see worry and sadness in her expression, and Lily was starting to feel the same dawn in her. She was engaged to James. James was her... her partner, her lover, her everything. But if Regulus was the one the spell had called... Alice cleared her throat and continued. "I've only got so many rooms in this house, but I think we should split up into our little... pairs... and have a conversation." She reached over and squeezed Frank's hand to led him from the room and their string disappeared. Without another word, they headed for the bedroom.

Marlene and Peony headed to the kitchen. Mary and whoever the man tied to her headed outside. Before Lily could decide where to go, the loo was the last room left unless they wanted to head outside into the cold.

Regulus didn't look well. Sweat beaded on his brow and his hair was wet as if he'd been caught in a rainstorm. When he got close to the sink he fumbled with the facet for a moment before turning it on fully and leaning down to drink straight from the flow of water. His undignified slurping was loud in the confined space but Lily didn't try to talk over the water or him. When he was finally done, he turned off the water and collapsed against the wall. The string between them pulled tight again.

"I suppose I should thank you," he said, gesturing with his other hand. "I was expecting to die where I was—"

"Don't be so melodramatic," Lily said, rolling her eyes. How had she not known he was prone to exaggeration like his brother?

"I'm not. Death was imminent. I'd drunk poison and has been pulled into a lake by Inferi." He looked at her and Lily could feel the bare-faced truth of his words. He sighed and raised the wrist the string was attached to. "What do we do about this?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I don't feel any different. To me, you're just Sirius's Slytherin younger brother."

He looked down at his feet where they were pressing against the cabinet under the sink. "I don't feel any—No, I take that back. I feel gratitude for you. Though I honestly don't know if I can... go back to before. Not with what I know now."

"What do you mean?"

Regulus pushed his wet sleeve up over his left forearm. The black mark there on his pale skin was harsh. A reminder that he hated her and everyone like her. "You're part of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, aren't you?"

"I—" she started, though she wasn't supposed to reveal that.

"Can you take me to him?" he asked.

She looked at him hard, wondering if this was somehow a trick.

"I'll surrender my wand to you. I just... There can't be absolution for what I've done but there might be... atonement."

Lily's opinion of him, that he was just a pureblood with hate and viciousness in his heart, shifted. She could see him for what he was, a boy, only a little younger than herself, who had listened to his parents, believed what they'd told him about blood purity, and was only now coming to terms with what that actually meant.

The red string tying them together vanished.

"What just happened?" Regulus asked. He rubbed at his wrist where the string had been and then at his chest.

Lily had done similarly as she felt an odd relaxing in her chest. Whatever tightened there before had loosened. "I don't know... but I think I'd better take you to Dumbledore."

He smiled at her, though it seemed sad. "Thank you."


	5. The More Things Change

**The More Things Change (The More They Stay the Same)**

_Eleven years after Sirius Black falls through the Veil, he's back among the living and told he's a free man. What's a man to do other than go home?_

Pairing: Hermione/Sirius pre-relationship, Daphne/Harry (mentioned)  
Rating: general  
Warnings: referenced character death  
Tropes: pre-relationship, Sirius Black lives!, a form of time travel  
Words: 2,170  
Original Release Date: 21 Feb 2020

* * *

Someone somewhere got the bright idea to break the damn Arch in the Department of Mysteries. Whether they anticipated the flood of people to come out of it with that action was not something Sirius was privy to.

Surrounded by people in clothes more antiquated than his—there were quite a lot of women in gauzy shifts that spoke of witch trials—Sirius was expecting a reaction at his name, if not right out immediate arrest. Yet the bare-faced kid who must have recently got out of Hogwarts just wrote his name down and told him he was free to go.

"Free? Are you sure?" Sirius asked. "I'm not one of these sods who was sentenced and executed by Veil. I was a wanted criminal."

The kid looked at him incredulously. "You were exonerated years ago, right after the war was over. There's even a fair trials act named after you. So, yeah, free to go. It'll take the Ministry a couple of days to reinstate you. Everyone coming out of the Arch was recorded as deceased."

Sirius's eyebrows rose in shock but he wasn't going to tempt fate and inquire further. He followed the line of people being directed upstairs to the Ministry Atrium. He thought about Flooing to Grimmauld Place but the idea left him cold. Instead, he exited via the Visitor's Entrance and planned to walk.

He got a few looks from Muggles as he strolled along. He even heard a few camera shutters go off nearby but he never really saw a camera. He supposed he should buy some new duds. The ones he'd been forced to wear when he was on the run had been his father's from the 50s. He was looking forward to slipping into a nice comfy pair of jeans and a tee-shirt. He wondered if any of his old band shirts were still around in a box somewhere.

That thought made him wonder if any of his favourite bands were even still together. It'd been a long time since he'd even heard music, much less popular Muggle music as opposed to what he could pick up on the Wizarding Wireless.

The walk from the Ministry to Grimmauld Place wasn't far but he took his time, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin and letting the feeling of "free" sink into him, down to his bones. As he got closer to his parent's house, he wondered what Harry might have done with it—Harry'd been his beneficiary, after all. Maybe he'd even torn it down.

As he got closer to his former home, his pace slowed even further. He wasn't opposed to seeing Harry, of course, but he thought maybe he should better equip himself. For all he knew, "years ago" was just that—years, decades even. Harry might be married. Might have kids. Might have grandkids! Would he have married? Hermione? Ginny Weasley? That sweet little blonde girl?

On a whim, Sirius wandered towards the small park near Grimmauld Place. Maybe the greenery of the place would calm his mounting nerves. Or, maybe it wouldn't. Further ahead, near a swingset that used to be rusted was a woman with wild brown hair even though it was pulled into a ponytail. She had a bundled baby against her chest in some sort of pink and purple wrap, was pushing a small child in a child-safe swing and another beside that one. She was chatting with an older child who had light brown hair; he looked to be about Hogwarts age. "No Teddy, we can't stay out here all night. I've got to get started on dinner soon. And I think Lo needs a nappy change."

The older child wrinkled his nose and for a moment it looked as if his hair changed to a darker shade. It must have just been a change in the light; dusk was starting to settle around them. The woman slowed the swinging children. She picked the youngest up and settled that one on her hip while the oldest picked up the second youngest.

"Hey Ally," the boy said, greeting the tot.

Before the little family could turn around, Sirius shifted into Padfoot. He laid down a little ways off the path, hoping they wouldn't notice him, but as they passed the woman slowed and looked him curiously. He watched her as well. She was definitely older than he remembered but he was sure she was Hermione.

They walked past and Padfoot waited. Only once they were out of sight, he got up and followed their scent trail. Sure enough, it led down the pavement and across the street, and right to the front steps of his former home. He was actually surprised he could see it. Surely Harry and Hermione would have reset the wards by now, possibly assigned a different Secret Keeper other than Dumbledore. If the war were over, then the Order of the Phoenix didn't need a headquarters any longer.

Instead of shifting back, Padfoot walked on for a while and then turned back, returning to the park. Though his thoughts and emotions were muted as Padfoot, he still could feel the shock and unexpected jolt of jealousy that ran through him. He'd never thought about having kids before, but the idea of it now, seeing his godson's friend with children—four! children—created an odd longing for a family of his own. It was ridiculous, of course. He hadn't had any committed relationships before Azkaban and he sure didn't have any after. He was almost forty, hell, if Hermione had a kid that was old enough to go to Hogwarts, it was likely that he was closer to fifty years, though he didn't know if he should count however long he'd been trapped in the Other place behind the Veil.

Night had fallen when Sirius finally shifted back. He didn't know where to go and he didn't really have any money aside from the few galleons and sickles in his jacket pocket. He felt it would be wrong to intrude on Harry and Hermione's life. He walked towards the road and raised his wand. The Knight Bus sped into sight and came to an abrupt halt in front of him.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, transport for the stranded witch or wizard. We can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I'm your conductor this evening. Come aboard. Do you have a destination or do you want to let a bed?"

Sirius remembered seeing this fellow before when he was in his late teens and pimple-faced but now he looked like any average man. A bit more scruffy than most, maybe. "A bed, I think," Sirius answered. As they made the transaction, he asked, "Hey, Stan, do you know Hermione Granger?"

"Sure, everybody knows her; she's one of the Golden Trio, right? Stole something from Gringotts on the back of a dragon during the war, she did." Sirius tried not to show his astonishment; Stan didn't seem to notice it anyway. "But now she's high up in the Ministry. Not Minister or anything, though the Prophet says she's there more than he is."

"And her family life? Her kids?"

"Huh?" Stan said, looking at Sirius like he was stupid. "That would cause a right scandal, wouldn't it? Might even make the front page of the Prophet, I reckon."

"Why?"

"Wondering who the father would be, right?" Before their conversation could proceed any further, the Knight Bus was coming to another stop and Stan had to welcome the next customer.

Sirius settled down on his bunk and spent some time thinking about what Stan had said. Maybe the woman hadn't been Hermione, after all.

Early the following morning, Sirius found himself in front of the Leaky Cauldron with an achy back. He figured he might as well have breakfast at the pub before heading down the Alley. He would need to stop at Gringotts—if it was still there—and get some money. He had a few things he needed to purchase.

* . * . *

Hermione was just getting the kids down for their naps when someone knocked on the door. She thought that was odd, as only their friends knew where Hermione lived and most of them came by Floo.

When she opened the door, she thought for a moment she must have been hit with a Confounding Spell. There on her doorstep was what looked to be Sirius Black, wearing jeans, a tee, and a leather jacket.

"Hermione?"

"Sirius?"

"That's still my name as far as I'm aware."

She blinked and stepped back to allow him inside. "How are you?"

"Yesterday someone broke the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. Turns out, we weren't dead. Just trapped. I don't know how whoever broke it figured that out, but... the kid that checked me out said I was free. Exonerated." He was looking around the entrance and the hall as if he'd never seen it before. She could admit that Grimmauld Place looked a lot different than it did when Harry had offered it to her, but she'd made the changes so incrementally, she'd never thought about how it would look to someone who'd seen it like it was before. He walked further down the hall to the foyer where his mother's portrait had been. "You reversed the Sticking Charm, somehow?"

"Yeah. Come down to the kitchen, the kids are sleeping upstairs."

In the kitchen, Hermione went about making them some tea. Finally, the shock of seeing him in the flesh wore off, and now she couldn't get all of her thoughts out fast enough. "I can't believe you're... here, alive. Have you talked to Harry—well of course not, you would have expected him here. You know, I thought I saw Padfoot yesterday but—"

"You did."

"So that black dog in the park was you. I thought I was imagining things." She opened a tin of biscuits and put them on the table in front of him.

"No, that was me. The kids, they yours?" he asked as he decided on a biscuit.

"Oh, no. They're Harry's—well, Teddy, the oldest, is Remus and Tonks's son—"

Sirius's eyes lit up at the mention of his friend. "Moony had a kid? I bet he's just as good or better at pranking than his old man is. They probably have a list as long as my arm of pranks he'll do at Hogwarts."

Hermione licked her lips and turned away from him. She didn't think she could bear the devastation she was about to put him through. She stood back up to fiddle about the kitchen. "Remus and Tonks, well, there was a final battle at Hogwarts and..."

Sirius was quiet for a long moment, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to turn around. "Remus died?" His voice betrayed how upset the news had made him.

It had been eleven years but she could still see their bodies laid out in the Great Hall if she closed her eyes. She wiped at her eyes quickly before she turned around and nodded. She swallowed and tried to pick up where she'd left off. "The three youngest, Jaime, Alyssa, and Apollo are Harry and Daphne's. I'm just babysitting so they can have a couple's weekend."

Sirius nodded and though he seemed to appreciate the information, whatever smile he'd had at the mention of Remus was gone. He took a sip of the tea she'd made him before asking his next question. "They live here?"

"No. Daphne's parents bought them a cottage in the country as a wedding present. Harry gave Grimmauld to me. I hope that's okay?"

"What? Yeah, of course. It looks great, by the way. I don't think I could have ever imagined it to look quite so open or... bright."

She couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped her. "Well, there's plenty of room if you... I mean, I know you hated this house and all, but if you need a place to crash."

He smiled at her. "I appreciate it. I suppose if Harry and his wife are having a holiday, I best not interrupt them, huh?" He winked at her.

She picked up her teacup to take a sip to hide the fact that she might have blushed. "I don't know, finding out you're alive would probably make Harry's year."

He shrugged a little. "He can wait a day or two. I'd like to get caught up. I feel like I've missed a lot."

Hermione set her cup down but wrapped both hands around it. "Eleven years or so."

He seemed a bit overwhelmed at that but after a deep breath and exhale he asked, "Where do I start?"

"I've got a few books in the library that tell the story relatively accurately." She thought she might have caught a grin on his lips before he nodded and stood up. He grabbed another biscuit and saluted her with it on his way out of the kitchen.


	6. Behind a Closed Door

**Behind a Closed Door**

_The unhappy union of Walburga and Orion. A look at the cold, distant father of Sirius Black._

Pairing: Walburga/Orion  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: UHEA  
Tropes: none  
Words: 389  
Original Release Date: 21 Feb 2020

* * *

Orion remembered seeing Walburga in the Slytherin common room. Her and her fellow seventh years primping and batting their eyelashes at Riddle and his gang. Riddle was a fifth-year but he walked around like he owned Slytherin House, like he was Salazar Slytherin in the flesh. His followers—because even as a second-year focused on his studies, Orion could see that Riddle didn't have friends, he had minions—listened to his theories, his ideas.

Orion and cousin Alphard thought it was all hogwash.

Walburga left school, Riddle and his gang soon after.

By his seventh year, Orion was thinking about courting Augusta MacMillan. She was a Gryffindor, sure, but she was great at Transfiguration and fantastic at duelling. She was tall and thin, with beautiful long blonde hair that Orion often thought about running his hands through. She was a fifth-year, though, and it wouldn't be proper to court her while she was in school. So he waited.

Yet while he waited for his sweetheart, Walburga schemed.

She was almost twenty-five and had dismissed any suitor that wasn't who Riddle. Riddle had never shown any interest. So she pouted and because she was her father's only daughter, she got what she wanted. She had figured that only one of the purest families around would do as her husband, and who better than another Black?

Unfortunately, Orion was the only suitable candidate.

Walburga was a demanding bride, ordering elaborate but unnecessary things then changing her mind once they arrived. Her father and their paterfamilias grandfather Sirius, catered to her every whim. If she had insisted the stars and moon were to attend their ceremony, Sirius and Pollux would have somehow provided.

Orion's wishes in the matter were summarily ignored. Lucretia told him to count himself lucky, at least he was of age, which couldn't be said for other men in their family. She gave a pointed look to five-months pregnant Druella Rosier standing next to her rather young looking husband.

In the end, Orion did his duty and married Walburga. He wasn't happy about it, and he made that plainly obvious. It didn't stop him thinking of blonde hair in the quiet hours of the night. And when Walburga would start her screeching and shouting, it didn't stop him from closing the door to his study and pouring a drink.


	7. The Past Influenced

**The Past Influenced**

_Regulus has a future set out for him. Now all he has to do is meet her._

Pairing: Hermione/Regulus  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: Pre-Relationship, Time Travel, "Pureblood" Hermione, Arranged Marriage, Regulus Lives!, Orion Lives!, between Marauders Era and Lightning Era, Age Gap, Time Travel but POV character doesn't know  
Words: 1,708  
Original Release Date: 21 Feb 2020

* * *

Eight-year-old Regulus sat on his mother's stiff settee and pet the cat his Aunt Cassiopeia brought when she came to visit. Its fur was a shiny black and it had golden-green eyes that were, at the moment, half-closed as it purred loudly.

Across the room, his mother and Aunt Cassiopeia were discussing cousin Bellatrix. He wasn't paying much attention to them.

"...she wants to sign a contract. I'm not sure if this plan is all-together wise," his mother was saying.

"Why not? Lestrange is of good stock, albeit French, but that's two generations back now. There's nothing wrong with a tentative betrothal between them..." Cassiopeia said. "...are you worried a better offer will come along? It's not like she's asking..."

Regulus, not familiar with cats, did not see the signs of the cat's irritation. When the animal swiped at him with claws outstretched he jerked his hand away. Four thin lines of red welled up on the top of his hand. Despite Kreacher's quick work of mending the wounds, they scarred.

* . * . *

Regulus was nineteen when his mother went into a rage the evening of 1 September. It reminded him of when she'd been so terribly angry when Sirius had been sorted Gryffindor. He crept closer to the drawing room where she was casting blasting Charms at photographs and knickknacks and anything else that would shatter. Father was standing outside the drawing room door. Regulus wasn't sure if he had escaped the shrieking whirlwind of anger or come to investigate the noise.

"Why is she so upset?" Regulus ventured to ask.

"Bellatrix's daughter was sorted Gryffindor."

"What does that have to do with Mother?"

Orion raised his eyebrows at Regulus. "The girl is your betrothed."

"Oh, right. I forgot about that."

"You forgot about who your betrothed is or you forgot you had a betrothed?" Orion asked. He tucked his hands into his pockets and leaned back on his heels.

Regulus knew it was a question meant to trip him up but that didn't help him in deciding which question was worse. He decided on honesty. "Forgot who I was betrothed to. It's not like I often think about a child I've met only a few times."

Orion nodded and glanced down at the floor at his feet. "That was partially my decision. I felt it would be awkward for you in your marriage if you were to have too many memories of her as a child." He sighed and looked back up to Regulus. "I wonder if I'd indulged your mother's wants to have you two interact more if you'd have influenced her to be Slytherin, as a Black should be."

Regulus felt his lips attempt to curl in a smirk and cleared his throat and looked away to hide it. "But she's not a Black. She's a Lestrange."

"Pedantic," his father dismissed.

"Is it, though?" Regulus didn't hide his grin this time.

* . * . *

Regulus had thought he'd be free of this betrothal-wedding nonsense until the girl was at least out of school but his mother insisted that he start courting her earlier. She had arranged for him to take Lestrange to Hogsmeade for her final Valentine's during her seventh year at Hogwarts.

He thought it was ridiculous and only agreed if he could meet the girl at some location in the village rather than start their date at the school gates. He was eight years the girl's senior, after all. Unfortunately, his mother had insisted on Madam Puttifoot's Tea Shop, so he there he sat on the sappiest day of the year, surrounded by pink hearts dangling from the ceiling, conjured clouds of sweets-scented pink mist (that he suspected had a short-lasting Inhibitions Decreaser as a potion base), and a diverse mix of teenage couples. Some were handsy, some snogging, others were gazing longingly at one another.

Regulus had already ordered tea as he waited in the dimly lit room. Despite the lighting, it wasn't difficult to spot Lestrange when she entered. She wore well-fitted crimson robes that brought the highlights of red out in her dark chocolate brown curls. Her heavy-lidded eyes were lined with kohl and her lips were painted a red a few shades darker than her clothes. But her appearance wasn't the only thing striking about her. There was a cold, calculating rage in her eyes as she scanned the room that had Regulus wondering for the first time what she thought about all of this betrothal madness.

When her attention landed on him, she strode to the table and sat. It when then that Regulus noticed the stubborn set to her clenched jaw. "Miss Lestrange?"

"Mr Black?" she retorted. "Who else could you be. I mean, a thirty-year-old wizard sitting alone in a teenage hotspot."

He winced. "I did not choose the place, I'm not thirty, and please, call me Regulus."

She nodded but did not give him leave to call her by her first name, though he knew it to be Hermione.

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" he asked, attempting to calm her anger.

"And have my friends see you? No, I don't think so."

"You obviously dressed to—"

"Mother insisted," she interrupted with a snap, though she did elaborate. "I was at least able to bypass the Jinx on the fabric to recolour it red."

A cloud of pink floated over the table. "You're stunning," Regulus said, without intention.

"You don't have to attempt to woo me, Regulus. We'll be married regardless." She caught a whiff of the cloud and coughed. Her nose wrinkled and she glanced towards the counter where Madam Puttifoot herself was smiling at her patrons. "An airborne inhibition decreaser? Really? Surely she knows she could be held liable if any of her patrons wind up pregnant."

"There are very strict gender-separating Charms on the toilets."

"Couples don't have to go to the bathroom to... misbehave." At her slight verbal stumble, she glanced down and a lovely pink dusted the top of her cheeks.

"Are you sure you don't want to leave? We could walk down to the Shrieking Shack, it's an unlikely destination today, I'd think."

She glanced around at all the couples and nodded. Regulus stood as she did, tossed a few coins on the table to pay for his tea, and gestured for her to proceed him out of the shop.

Hermione fastened her woollen cloak around her shoulders and covered her head as they exited the building. Regulus walked beside her with his hands in his pockets, both to keep them warm and to not touch her. The road was covered in a slushy mix of ice and melted snow but once they were off Centre Street, there was less ice, only crunch, thick snow under their shoes.

The end of the path was empty, as Regulus had anticipated, and he cast a Warm Air Charm around them. The snow beneath their feet started to melt. He looked her over out here and with the better lighting noticed things he hadn't before. Her eyes were a warm brown, not grey like his. What colour were Rodolphus's eyes? Rabastan's were green. She didn't have Bellarix's sharp cheekbones or jaw, either. Her face was softer, rounder.

She glanced up at him and caught him staring. The anger that he thought had disappeared had reignited.

"This is ridiculous, you know," he sighed and rocked back on his heels. He looked out to the Shack as he spoke so he wouldn't look at her. "I have no idea what to say to you. I'm sure you don't want to be doing any of this either. We've met and spoken, that should be enough to satisfy our mothers until..."

"That's just it," she said, sounding less angry, and perhaps a little nervous. Regulus looked back at her. "I've known about you my whole life but I don't know you. This is awkward, yes, but I'd like to get to know you a bit before the wedding. The idea of bedding a practical stranger isn't appealing in the slightest."

He hadn't thought of that. He briefly wondered if she'd experimented at all with any of her peers—if she'd ever dated anyone—but he wouldn't ask. "Okay," he said. He inhaled deeply and tried to think of something... "How did you get sorted Gryffindor? And what was Bella's reaction?"

"I was a near hatstall, almost got sorted Ravenclaw," she said. "And the Howler Mum sent the following day was epic. Went on for nearly four minutes without repeating herself once. By the end, most of my fellow first years had to have Calming Draughts administered."

"But not you?" he asked, wondering how much of her bravado was false.

She shook her head and her shoulders came up in a tiny shrug. "Mother shouts. That's just what she does."

"I remember seeing my mother's reaction to Sirius getting sorted Gryffindor. I promised myself I would ask the Hat for Slytherin because I didn't want her to yell at me like that." He gave her a self-deprecating grin. "I think Sirius had more fun."

She laughed unguardedly and Regulus felt a chuckle bubble up through his chest. The tension between them seemed to have lifted. "What do you want to do after school?" he asked.

"Study Arithmancy, I think. Using logic and reason to predict future events sounds... promising," she said. "And what is it you do?"

"Ministry work. Obliviations office mostly, though sometimes I've participated in Wizengamot hearings."

Hermione's tone was playful when she said, "That sounds rather boring."

"Nah, being an Obliviator isn't so bad. The Wizengamot stuff, though, yeah, it can get boring. Especially when the docket is full of Misuse of Magic Against Muggles cases."

Hermione's smile faded a little and she looked away from him.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

When she turned back to him her smile had returned.

"Hey Lestrange!" someone shouted from behind them.

Hermione ducked her head and pulled her hood up. "Shit," she muttered. "I've got to go," she glanced up at him and then in the direction of the shout. "Maybe you can owl me?" Without waiting for an answer she hurried back towards Hogsmeade.

As Regulus watched her leave, he thought maybe this wouldn't be too bad after all.


	8. What Can't Be Seen

**What Can't Be Seen**

_Luna has always seen things that other people couldn't._

Pairing: Luna/Sirius  
Rating: general  
Warnings: Potentially not a HEA  
Tropes: Ambiguous Ending, Pining, Ghost  
Words: 644  
Original Release Date: 21 Feb 2020

* * *

After the war, Harry opened Grimmauld Place up as a waystation for his friends and the other members of the Order and Dumbledore's Army. Luna was one of the ones to help clean the rowhouse and make it into a proper B&B. Each person had their favourite room—Hermione liked the one across from the library, Neville liked the one with the view of the garden, Ron liked one on the first floor because it was closer to the kitchen. And Luna? Luna liked the room that had been Sirius's bedroom. (She'd long since been persuaded that he was in fact, not Stubby Boardman.)

As she was often out of the country doing research as a Magizoologist, she didn't have a regular home to come home to. (Especially since her father's remarriage.) She didn't mind, because it meant she came home to _him_.

Every night she spent in Sirius's bedroom, _her_ room, really, at the witching hour, he would show up. Not completely translucent like a ghost but not fully corporeal either. It was enough that he could brush her hair from her face or press his lips to hers. At first, they had just talked but as the years passed and their relationship bloomed, they tried other things. More intimate things. Either he wasn't corporeal enough on those nights or they would run out of time. But that didn't matter so much to Luna. What mattered is that he was there. With her.

What matter was the way he smiled when he saw her, the way mischief would light his eyes if she wore something revealing, the way he said her name.

Once, when the B&B was full and Luna was on the continent, Hermione stayed in Sirius's room. Luna talked with her, hoping that the other woman would bring it up, but if Sirius had been there, Hermione hadn't seen him.

Another time, Luna had to stay in another room of the house. She had set her alarm, which didn't actually help as she was too anxious to sleep, but he did not appear to her then either.

She asked him the next time she saw him, alone in their room, the clock in the hall still chiming, but he didn't know anything about the other people that may have been in their room. He hadn't seen them; he only ever saw her and she was always there when he was.

Luna had promised him once—and only once—that one day she would find the right spell to revive him, to bring him back into the world. She discussed her experimental spells with him but one time she had a close call and had to be taken to St Mungo's. Sirius asked her to stop, told her he wasn't worth it, and she never spoke of it again.

* . * . *

"And then one day, you're Aunt Luna—your namesake—just vanished. Completely disappeared. Aunt Hermione couldn't make sense of her spell notes but we assumed that she died the same way her mother had, by an experimental spell backfiring."

"Did she die before I was born?" Li-Lu asked, shifting on the couch where she sat next to her father.

Harry summoned a photo album and flipped through a few pages as he answered her. "No, she was alive when you were born. We've got a picture of her holding you." He opened the page and turned the album around so she could see it.

In the picture, a pretty blonde woman was smiling dreamily and holding a tiny pink bundle. She was seated and behind her was a man with his hand gently rubbing on her shoulder. The picture had only captured his torso.

"Who's that?" Li-Lu asked, pointing at the man in the picture.

"That's you and Aunt Luna," Harry answered not acknowledging the man in the picture at all.


	9. Awkward Firsts

**Awkward Firsts**

_The Marauders have had plenty of pranks go wrong, but this one leads to some awkward firsts for Sirius and James._

Pairing: James/Sirius  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: first kiss  
Words: 1,014  
Original Release Date: 22 Feb 2020

* * *

James had been attempting to Charm mistletoe because they (read that as James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter) all thought it would be funny if people got stuck under it and had to kiss someone to get free. It would also be equally brilliant if the mistletoe moved like a cloud over people's head.

Because, why not?

Being the fourteen-year-olds that they were, this seemed like a marvellous way to use their talents and create a lasting prank that could be reused every year. Not that they would, because who wants to be associated with stale, rehashed pranks?

There were only a few Gryffindors staying in the castle over the Christmas hols so James decided that was the best place to work on his project. Sirius was on one of the couches reading and Evans and MacDonald were in the corner nattering on about girl stuff. James didn't really want to know.

James pointed his wand at the inert bit of mistletoe laying on the desk in front of him. When it rose into the air and started floating around like a little green cloud. "Ha, look at that!"

The other three people in the room did look over at him, but no one said anything.

"And..." James concentrated on getting the wand movement just right as he cast the second spell on the moving green plant. It moved nebulously above their heads, and James thought about trying a third spell, to send the bundle of leaves towards Evans. Then the plant stopped. It stayed suspended in the air but there was no one caught under it. James walked towards it, looking up at the plant rather than at what was in front of him.

Right before he got to it to see what had snagged it, he tripped over his cloak that he'd haphazardly tossed aside after coming in from a snowball fight with Sirius. He tumbled to the floor and ended up sprawled on his face. He rolled over to get back up only to realize he couldn't move.

Directly above him was the kissing-cloud-of-doom.

Shit. He wasn't supposed to get caught under it. But maybe this was just the opportunity he needed...

"Hey Evans," he called, tilting his head up against the floor to look at her upside. "Do you think you could help me out?"

"What did you do now?"

He pointed up at the mistletoe. "I'm stuck."

She snorted through her nose at his misfortune. "Come on, Mary, let's go," she said. And then both of the girls left.

That mean only he and Sirius were in the tower. "Sirius! Mate, look, I got it to work!"

But there was no answer. Where had Sirius gone?

James waited, tapping his foot (as it was mostly his torso stuck to the ground). He finally heard a door downstairs open. Footsteps up and then, "James, what are you doing on the floor?" Sirius asked.

"I got the Charm to work," he paused and shifted a bit to try and see Sirius. He failed. "But I'm stuck."

"Guess you're going to have to find someone to kiss you." Sirius's tone made it clear that it wasn't going to be him.

"I already asked Evans. She and MacDonald left."

"I don't know what to tell you, James." After a moment, Sirius walked into James's line of sight. "You know it's dinner time, right?" He then walked towards the portrait hole.

"You can't leave me here!"

But he did.

James was stuck to the floor underneath his mistletoe two entire hours while Sirius had a gay old time eating the slowest meal ever. Evans and MacDonald came back, ignored his pleas, and headed up to their dorm.

Sirius strolled back in and laughed when he saw James was still where he'd left him. "What are you doing? Haven't you tried to cancel the spell yet?"

James frowned. He hadn't tried to Finite it.

"_Finite Incantatem_," Sirius said with his wand aimed at the evil little plant.

James attempted to get up. "No luck."

Sirius walked out of James's sight and things were quiet for a moment. James's stomach rumbled.

"I think you're going to have to kiss me, Sirius."

"What? No. We'll figure..."

"I'm hungry, Sirius, please."

James could hear Sirius's put-upon sigh. He trudged around James and sat down next to his head. He leaned forward but then shifted around again. "You couldn't have got stuck in a better position, mate?"

"'Fraid not," James said.

After wiggling around to try another position to get close enough to James without also getting caught under the mistletoe, Sirius stood back up. "This is going to be so weird." He frowned and then stepped on either side of James's body and sat down. On James's dick. James swallowed any complains he had as Sirius leaned forward and pecked him on the lips.

James tried to sit up.

"Oh, man. I think it's going to have to be a... real kiss, if you know what I mean?"

Sirius was still sitting on James's lap and now he was staring down at James with wide eyes. "Why did we think this was going to be a brilliant prank?"

"I don't know," James whined.

"Well, uh... here goes." He leaned forward again, placing his hands on either side of James's head. He didn't dive in tongue-flailing like James expected, though he didn't wait too long before he put his tongue in James's mouth. Sirius's mouth was very wet and he tasted like roast and treacle. His lips were soft, though, almost puffy, which James hadn't anticipated.

The mistletoe dropped out of the air and landed on Sirius at the same time James's back unstuck from the floor. He made a "hmph" sound and sat up. Sirius back up off of him quickly. His eyes were wide with shock and his face was starting to turn red. James thought his face was probably doing something similar.

"We're not telling anyone about this," Sirius said. He pointed to the green, innocent-looking trap on the floor beside him. "And that prank is rubbish."


	10. It's a Process

**It's a Process**

_Draco and Ginny have a talk about House Pride and Quidditch._

Pairing: Ginny/Draco  
Rating: general  
Warnings: mentioned character death  
Tropes: Pre-Relationship, 8th year, subtext  
Words: 511  
Original Release Date: 22 Feb 2020

* * *

Draco was muttering to himself as he started removing his Quidditch gear in the locker room. "Can't believe McGonagall made us do blind tryouts. Seeker for Gryffindor, might as well not even play."

"Harry told me you'd changed but you still sound like an arrogant prick," a girl's voice said behind him. Draco looked over his shoulder to find his new Quidditch Captain, Weaslette standing there. She too was starting to remove her gear and her red hair was damp with sweat and stuck to her neck.

He looked away from her but continued the conversation. "I think it's stupid that McGonagall made eighth years play for different teams. I'm a Slytherin. Why should I have to play for Gryffindor?" he asked, mostly rhetorically. "I mean, it's my last year, should I get to play for my own House? Wouldn't you want to play for your House?"

"Honestly, I'm over the Houses and Sorting. I'm just glad I get to play."

He turned to look back at her. "I'm proud to be Slytherin. You're not proud to be Gryffindor?"

She brushed her sweat-damp hair over her shoulder as she pulled off her shoulder pads. "What's there to be proud of?" She raised her hands in a mock display of a cheer, "Yay Gryffindor, the House with the highest death toll! Yay Gryffindor, the House with the most student ghosts! Filch should polish up a trophy for that, for sure."

Draco propped his foot on the bench between them and mechanically took off his shin guards. He'd seen how she'd burst into tears at the beginning of the year when the new ghosts swept through the Great Hall, her brother in the lead. They both knew that ghosts never moved on and though being able to talk to a loved one now soothes the ache, knowing that they'll never move on to the afterlife was depressing. To distract from that, he said, "They didn't have to fight." He'd meant for it to come out with a sneer but it had come out as more of a strangled whisper.

"If you think that, then you haven't learned anything," she answered back in a cold quiet tone.

"It's not like I can flip a switch on what I was raised to believe! It's a—"

She turned around as she interrupted him. "Process, yeah yeah, I've got the same mandatory counselling sessions as you do." she rolled her eyes. He doubted she had the re-education lesson that he was forced to endure but he kept his mouth shut. "Well, since it's a journey, you might as well start it here by calling me Ginny."

"What?"

"My name? It's Ginny. Not Weaslette."

He felt like this was a trap of some kind. "Why?"

"Because you're on the team now, and we're going to be spending a lot of time together. Fred says my practice scheduling rivals Oliver Wood's."

He knew that mean early wake-up calls and practices in the rain, but Wood's team had won, so maybe it was a good strategy. He nodded. "Okay... Ginny."


	11. Cold, as the Dark Expanse

**Cold, As the Dark Expanse**

_When the Ministry of Magic declares Muggleborns illegal and takes drastic measures against them. Lily finds her future is going to be much different than she'd ever imagined._

Pairing: Lily/Orion  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: mentions of rape, mentions of domestic violence, anxiety attack  
Tropes: marriage law, forced marriage  
Words: 3,146  
Original Release Date: 22 Feb 2020

* * *

Lily couldn't believe what she was seeing. _The Daily Prophet_'s headline, the following article declaring people of her birth illegal. What... how... All she could piece together in her spiralling brain was that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was in control of the Ministry. She barely caught the words of Professor McGonagall calling the Great Hall to attention.

"All students of Muggle birth, please join me in the antechamber as soon as you're finished with breakfast."

James and his friends were just strolling into the Great Hall when Lily stood to follow the Deputy Headmistress. "Lily, where are you going this fine morning?" he asked, though when he got a look at her face his smile faltered. "Lily?"

Words were stuck in her throat and she just gestured to the newspaper on the table. She worried that if she tried to speak she might burst into tears. She turned and walked away before he or any of them could stop her. In the antechamber, Lily stood around waiting for the last of her fellow Muggleborns to enter. They all shared similar looks of worry and fear. What was going to happen to them? The Prophet had been vague about it. Something about underage witches and wizards becoming wards of prominent pure-blood families. There was no mention of what was to happen to of age Muggleborns. She was eighteen, had just had her eighteenth birthday three months ago.

There were fewer Muggleborns that she had expected. Most were in the lower forms with only her, Mary, and Dirk Cresswell the Muggleborns that she knew. As McGonagall started to explain to them about what was contained in _The Daily Prophet_ and how she and Headmaster Dumbledore were going to try to influence which families received custody of the students—and what was going to happen with their parents—Lily fidgeted.

Professor McGonagall dismissed the younger forms, confirmed with Cresswell that he was a month underage still, and sent him away as well. With only Lily and Mary left in the room, McGonagall's calm in-charge persona cracked a little.

"Are we going to be assigned guardians as well?" Mary asked.

"Unfortunately, no." She paused and took a deep breath. "There's no good way to say this. When the students come of age, their wardens will be turned into their spouses. As you two are already of age, your spouses—" she said the word as if it were bitter in her mouth—"have been chosen for you."

Mary gasped and covered her face with her hands, overwhelmed with the idea. All Lily could do was stand stock still, her thoughts racing on ahead of her. Marriage. To their wardens. Guardians would be older and chosen by the Ministry, the Death Eater controlled Ministry. Marriage meant sex. Sex to someone she didn't know, someone older, someone prominent and important to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, someone to whom she didn't consent. Rape.

She didn't realize she was hyperventilating until Professor McGonagall put her hands on her shoulders and squeezed, speaking in a soft voice. Lily couldn't comprehend the words but her soft, comforting tone did much to calm her. Finally, when Lily had calmed enough catch her breath, McGonagall stood and address them again. "The Headmaster has been told that you'll be sent an owl within the week to learn who your..." she glanced at Lily again, "spouse will be."

"What's the consequence if we run?" Lily asked.

McGonagall's lips pursed in anger at the situation. "Wands snapped and Azkaban for life."

* . * . *

The students had regained some of their liveliness after the announcement and by the end of the week, anyone who the new law didn't affect had forgotten about it. Lily's tablemates and friends included. At breakfast on Thursday, she sat quietly trying to stomach at least a little something when the owl post started arriving.

"That's my father's owl," Sirius said as a majestic grey and black owl swooped down and landed on the table between her and him. "I haven't got owl post from him since he told me my mother died last spring. Wonder what he wants now." He reached towards the bird but it nipped at him and hopped a few steps away from him, closer to Lily.

A knot had formed in the pit of Lily's stomach. She reached towards the owl to take the missive with trembling fingers. The owl hooted at her and flew up into the rafters. Lily didn't know what she wanted. Did she want this letter to be from Sirius's father or did she want Sirius to have mistaken the owl for someone else's? She inhaled to gather her courage and opened the letter. It was very short, only giving her the barest information necessary.

_Miss Evans,_

_Arrangements have been made for our marriage ceremony Saturday next. Headmaster's office at two in the afternoon, presided over by a Ministry Official._

_Orion Black, Paterfamilias _

_The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_

Lily exhaled and glanced up at her tablemates. Sirius, James, and Remus were both looking at her with curiosity. She glanced further down the table to see Mary looking a little green as she read her own post.

"Well? What's it about?" Sirius asked.

"I'm to be your step-mother."

"WHAT?" he and James shouted together. It attracted the attention of a few other students but neither James nor Sirius cared. James continued, "That's crazy, he can't—"

"That article in the _Prophet_ about Muggleborns being illegal?" Lily explained, "It left out this part. Muggleborns are assigned wardens who then become their spouses."

"There's got to be some way—I mean, I'm pureblood, I'll petition for you or something," James said. His eyes were open wider than normal behind his glasses and there was a tinge of panic in his tone.

"I don't think that's an option," she said. She let the letter slide from her fingertips. It slipped across the table and stuck under Sirius's plate. He picked it up and read it over as well. "The marriage is already scheduled." She glanced over to see Mary looking even more sick than before. "See you guys in class," she said as she stood and headed towards her friend.

She patted Mary on the shoulder and the two of them left the Great Hall together.

* . * . *

On Saturday, Sirius snagged the Map and hid in a secret alcove off the corridor to the headmaster's office. He saw Frederick Nott, whose two previous wives both died of mysterious causes, and some Ministry Official named Pepperquat stroll past around a quarter one. Fifteen minutes later, he saw his father's name enter the front doors of Hogwarts and head up the Marble Staircase.

When Orion was a few metres past the alcove, Sirius stepped out. "Orion," he called. His father stopped walking and turned around.

He looked Sirius up and down—and Sirius fought the urge to squirm and tidy his tee-shirt—before acknowledging him. "Sirius."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Sirius asked, his tone and volume rising with his emotions. "Lily should be marrying James! How could you even—"

"Your feelings of outrage have never had any bearing on my decisions before, nor will they in the future." He turned and continued down the hall.

"If you rape her I'll kill you!"

Orion momentarily paused but did not turn to look at his son, then walked to the gargoyle and up the spiralling stairs.

Sirius clenched his fists and breathed heavily through his nose, irritated at the old man. No matter what Sirius said or did, Orion would never raise his voice or fight back. He always remained calm, cold and collected. Calculated. Sirius's brother was the same way. Their mother, on the other hand, had been like Sirius, quick to temper and prone to shouting, always ready for a good, loud row. It's the one thing he had had in common with the old windbag. He heard footsteps coming up the corridor behind him and ran back to hide in the alcove. McDonald and Lily were walking hand in hand. McDonald's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and her shoulders were hunched. Lily's head was held high and level, her shoulders were back. She looked regal and ready for battle. He hoped she was ready.

* . * . *

Lily knew Orion Black immediately when she walked in the room. He had to be at least fifty but he didn't look it. He was lean with well-tailored robes that emphasised his build. He had Sirius's colouring, pale skin and black hair, though his hair was shorter and slicked back. He was tall and despite not being a broad-shouldered man, his presence was commanding.

After introductions made by Headmaster Dumbledore, Mary and Frederick Nott were married. It was the first time Lily had witnessed a magical wedding. The officiant incorporated Latin spells in with the hand binding and what Lily could pick up made her nervous. What was Mary being made to vow? The ceremony was short and as soon as it was over, Nott insisted he and Mary floo to his home. Before she disappeared in a flash of green, Mary started to cry again.

Lily's own marriage ceremony seemed even shorter than the one she'd witnessed. As the last touch of magic tingled on her skin, she felt a surge of anxiety spread through her limbs, ready to overtake her. She waited for Orion to tell her the name of his house for floo travel but instead, he turned and headed towards the door.

"I don't want to walk through the school with you. We might as well floo," she said. She was surprised with how steady her voice came out considering her nerves were threatening to strangle her.

He turned to look back at her. "Consummation needn't happen immediately. I'll retrieve you at King's Cross at the end of the term, Madam Black." Then he nodded to Dumbledore and the officiant and left.

Lily tried not to let her body sag in relief. She looked at the floo and then to Headmaster Dumbledore but before she could ask about Mary, he was giving her a smile and ushering her out of the door. "Why don't you head back to Gryffindor tower now, Madam Black."

And that was it. She was out of the office, hand-bound to the father of one of her peers, reeling from the release of nerves and her new name. A clearing throat caught her attention and she looked up to see Sirius standing there looking worried.

"All right, Evans?"

She didn't know what her face was doing but her eyes were starting to sting from oncoming tears. "It's Madam Black now."

He inhaled like he was going to say something but instead stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. His whispered, "I'm sorry," broke her rein on her emotions. He didn't say a word when she started to cry in his arms. All he did was pull her into the alcove so no one else would see.

* . * . *

Lily had noticed James's subdued attitude and coldness towards her for over a week since she'd received the letter about having to marry Orion. It wasn't her fault any of this had happened and she was frustrated that he was taking it out on her. So she confronted him after Herbology.

"Why the cold shoulder, James? I didn't do anything wrong here."

When he looked at her, though, she couldn't see the blame she imagined he held. "I don't fault you at all in this, Lily."

"Then why have you been ignoring me?"

"I haven't been," he said, but at her raised eyebrows and skeptical look he rephrased, "not intentionally. I've been owling my parents to see if they could do anything about this whole illegal business, to see if we can contest this from a legal standpoint. And I've just been so frustrated and angry about the entire thing that I've not wanted to be around you—or anyone really—because I don't want my foul mood to make it all worse." He sighed and grabbed her hands in his. "I'm sorry."

Lily looked down at their clasped hand and tried not to think of what a future with him would be like. "I just want the rest of the year to be as normal as possible, and that means you being... well, you."

He grinned at her. "I knew you liked me for my charm, Evans."

She laughed.

* . * . *

Lily grew more anxious the closer the Hogwarts Express got to King's Cross Station. What awaited her in Sirius's former house of horrors? She had seen Mary when she'd returned from her husband. Bruises up and down her neck, a black eyes, and more that her robes had covered. She'd had to stay in the Infirmary for two days before Madam Pomfrey would allow her back in class. It was awful.

Nothing any of their friends said or did made the anxiety any better either. Sirius was the one brooding now while James, Remus, and Peter tried to carry the levity. Mary was quiet and scared.

When Lily started to see the signs that they were getting close to the station, she started saying her goodbyes. Each person got a hug, and well wishes, and "see you soons" even though nothing was certain. Mary clung to her, terror making her tremble in Lily's arms and when she finally pulled away from the look in her eyes filled Lily with so much dread she had to look away. "You'll be okay," Lily whispered.

Mary's response brought tears to Lily's eyes and a lump in her throat. "I'll be dead."

And then the train was stopping and the whistleblowing and they were all making sure to get their trunks before they disembarked. The platform was just as noisy as normal but Lily didn't hear much of it for the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

Orion was standing near the back of the platform. He stood—straight, tall, menacing—rather than casually lean against the wall and though he saw her, he did not approach. He waited for her to come to him. When she was close enough to hear him over the din he gestured towards her trunk. "Kreacher will take this ahead of us."

A bent, old House Elf appeared beside her and she let go of her trunk so he could disappear with it.

She looked back up to find him looking her up and down, not in a leering sort of way, but a calculated way.

"We could Apparate if you so desire, but it's not too far of a walk."

He said it as a statement but he did tilt his head like he was expecting an answer. She nodded and then answered allowed, "A walk is good." It came out weak and mumbled and she cleared her throat to say it again but he was already walking towards the wall back to the Muggle side of things. She followed along two steps behind.

His robes looked more like fashionable menswear from a bygone era than some wizard's robes she had seen, so when they stepped out into the overcast evening, he didn't look too unusual. He slowed his stride once they were out of the crush of people and walked beside her. He didn't talk to her, though she wasn't sure she expected him to. A knot was forming in her stomach as they went on until he finally stopped in front of a normal-looking set of rowhouses with an odd numbering error. There was a ten, an eleven, a thirteen, and a fourteen. But no twelve.

He leaned towards her and she flinched. She looked back up at him but couldn't read any emotion on his face. He leaned close again and said in a quiet voice, "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black sits at 12 Grimmauld Place."

Before her eyes, another rowhouse appeared, squeezing itself between numbers eleven and thirteen. It was darker than the others, like it rarely saw as much sunlight, but otherwise it didn't look too threatening. She looked up at Orion and he was watching her, like he was making sure she was seeing her new home.

"Kreacher will have dinner ready," he said, and then he led the way up the stairs into the house. The inside was dark and dreary but well-kempt. The walls were shiny with polish and there were portraits lining the hall. The air smelt clean and the hint of roast lingered, tempting her to settle her nervous tummy with a pleasant meal.

Orion led the way down the hall and into a room to the left, a dining room. Two places were set opposite each other on a long oval table and he took his place at what she assumed was his usual seat. The cloche over the dinner plate disappeared and they were presented with a hot and tasty meal. They didn't speak.

Lily was hungry and despite her nervousness about what was to come, she ate well. When the meal had come to an end—with a delicious pudding, he finally addressed her.

"I'll show you around the house tomorrow. Your bedroom is on the first floor, the second door on the right."

He stood to leave and Lily should have let him, should have thanked her lucky stars that that would be the end of things. Her own bedroom? Had she heard that right? "I'm not sharing a room with you?"

He stopped and looked at her again, with those calculating grey eyes. "No matter what my son may have told you, Madam Black, I'm not going to force myself on anyone for the sack of someone else's ridiculous, pompous-arsed ideas."

She stood to be closer to eye level with him. "I saw what Nott did to Mary."

His expression grew darker somehow. "I am not Frederick Nott. You-Know-Who has puppets in the Ministry, Madam Black, that started this incredulous mess, but not enough to force Mud—" he frowned midword and rephrased, "Muggleborns to be imprisoned or killed. This marriage was mandated by the Ministry but they cannot dictate what happens in my own home. I had assumed this sleeping arrangement would be to your liking but—"

"Yes, yes. Separate bedrooms are great," she answered. If she wasn't already half frightened of him, the look at her interruption may have scared her further. "First floor, second door on the right."

He nodded and left the room.

She exhaled, feeling the tension she'd carried all day lift from her. She nodded to herself, wondering for the umpteenth time how her new life as Madam Black was going to go. She looked around the beautifully decorated dining room and wondered, too, how lonely this life was going to be. She exited the room and headed up the stairs to the bedroom that was solely hers.


End file.
